


Move us in spite of our learning

by keysmash



Series: Supernatural s6 Codas [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Episode Related, Episode: s06e12 Like a Virgin, Guilt, M/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-18
Updated: 2011-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-15 18:09:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/163493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keysmash/pseuds/keysmash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We continue to speak, if only in whispers,<br/>to something inside us that longs to be named.<br/>We name it the past and drag it behind us,<br/>bag like a lung filled with shadow and song,<br/>dreams of running, the keys to lost names.</p><p>from Dorianne Laux "<a href="">Dark Charms</a>"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Move us in spite of our learning

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Dorianne Laux; prompt from velvetine01.

They all stared at the book for a while, until Bobby looked up and remembered who he was sitting across from. He made some excuse on his way into the next room, and Dean leaned forward to reread the shit written on someone's skin rather than have to watch Sam pretend he hadn't flinched.

"Come on." He picked up the bottle after a minute, which was plenty of time for Sam to school his face again. "How about we stop staring at this creepy-ass thing for a while."

Sam shrugged and said, "Sure, whatever," but he followed Dean outside to the yard. They walked into the aisles not quite at random and wound up leaning against one of Bobby's newer acquisitions, an early 90's model Silverado with a rusted-through bed but probably an engine full of decent parts. They would have been shoulder to shoulder against the cab if Sam hadn't been careful to leave a few inches between them, but as it stood, they weren't touching. It was as quiet as it ever got out at Bobby's, with the hum of a neighbor's car far in the distance and the yard's population of birds scurrying to get away from Sam and Dean.

Dean hadn't thought to snag his glass, so they passed the bottle back and forth. They both took shallow sips, hardly worth the effort, and when Sam clinked the bottle against the truck's hood instead of against Dean's ring, he didn't argue.

Sam sighed and tucked his hands into his pockets. His eyes were closed when Dean glanced over, so he took the opportunity to keep looking. It was like Sam'd aged five years since getting his soul back, with his shoulders hunched into himself, and with his face set in a frown when he thought no one was watching. Even his hair was different, less poofy than a few days ago, and Dean wondered if the soulless version of his brother had spent as many sleepless hours in front of a mirror as he obviously had working out.

Even Sam's _hair_ was different: Dean knew he couldn't have lied to him forever. His hair was longer than it'd been before Detroit, and maybe that could have been explained away as postmortem growth, but Sam would have kept looking for stuff. He had new scars now, and wounds still unhealed, and had probably woken up with a bellyful of the previous inhabitant's last meal. Someone had just as obviously been traveling with Dean, too. There was Sam's mess spread throughout the car, and pages in the history of Sam's laptop, and recent calls to and from people, Dean definitely included, on Sam's phone. It would've fallen apart without Cas's interfering. Dean had just wanted to tell Sam himself.

Eventually, somewhere as far down the line as he could swing it. Coming clean to Sam sucked almost as much as lying to him did.

Dean looked away when Sam opened his eyes. Probably it was better that Sam knew now, so Dean could move on to worrying about who was sleeping where, what it meant that he and Sam had crashed in the same bed at Bobby's but separately out on the job. And then he could worry about giving any of that a second thought in the first place. He'd fucked up his chance at a normal life with Lisa, but maybe it would work with Sam instead — the real kind of normal, the sort that didn't involve messing around with blood kin. Maybe that was what Sam would want.

Sam glanced at Dean with his most obvious regretful expression, and Dean looked away before Sam could start in on himself again.

"Shame those girls didn't figure out why the dragon wanted them," he said, grinning. "Because they could have paired off and taken care of the problem themselves, know what I mean?"

"God, Dean," Sam said, and Dean glanced over in time to catch the full brunt of Sam's pinched, pissed face. He bit back a smile just at seeing it again. "You really haven't changed a bit."

Life with body-snatched Sam apparently made Dean seem just the same as back when he was sending both his baby brothers off to fight the devil: awesome. He shook his head instead of arguing. "I've seen at least three different pornos start out that way."

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes, almost laughing, and Dean grinned. The other Sam might have thought Dean was serious, and started talking positions without realizing Dean wasn't playing along, or he might have wanted to know Dean's favorite sites for first-time girl-on-girl, or he might have ignored the comment entirely. He wouldn't have seen the joke for what it was like Sam did now, and he definitely wouldn't have known why Dean had needed laugh about the situation in the first place.

"But thanks to us, they can all have their glorious lesbian awakenings in the comfort of their own homes," Sam said. The sarcasm was coming on thick, but Dean nodded like Sam was serious.

"Damn straight," he said, and then chuckled. "Or not."

"This whole pot and kettle thing you've got going is just precious, man," Sam said. He was still looking out over the yard, at rows of cars that seemed permanent even though Dean had watched Bobby cycle through inventory for more than a decade, and his hands were still jammed as deep into his pockets as he could manage, but he was grinning, too. Dean could see a tiny peek of his tongue through his teeth. He elbowed Sam, Sam scrambled to get a hand free so he could smack him back, and then they both let it go. Dean crossed one ankle over the other, and resettling his weight meant he nudged up against Sam's arm. Sam tensed up so slightly Dean might not have noticed anyone else do it, but then he relaxed, and so they leaned against each other as the sun went down.


End file.
